


In the Reflections of a Forgotten Whiskey Glass

by theLadyLazaruss



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: And it was an absolute pleasure, Ankles in the Air, Bottom Will Graham, First Time Bottoming, Floor Sex, I wrote this drunk as a skunk, M/M, Top Hannibal Lecter, WhiskeyBottomWill, writing challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:07:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24281038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theLadyLazaruss/pseuds/theLadyLazaruss
Summary: There was a glass left forgotten on the cherry wood table...#WhiskeyBottomWill"How much whiskey can Will Graham have before his ankles go in the air?" - Bryan Fuller
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 12
Kudos: 167
Collections: Whiskey Bottom Will





	In the Reflections of a Forgotten Whiskey Glass

**Author's Note:**

> This is my contribution to the Flash Fic (~500wc) for the #WhiskeyBottomWill Festival!

There was a glass left on the table.

The glass, for all its life in this lavish house, had spent very little time left on tables. It was in elegant hands, wiped with soft cloths, stored promptly away with several others of its kind, but here it was left on the cherry wood. Forgotten.

It was a fine crystal, a yawning _Spiegelau_ make that ensured a generous serving to the receiver. A generous serving that now slid in thin viscous streams and pooled in dregs at its base. The fine crystal was smeared with a whirlwind of sweaty fingerprints. It had been spun slowly in nerves, its contours stroked by restless thumbs, its rim tongued and kissed by practised lips, until the rich whiskey it held was finished. It hadn’t been placed down on a coaster, no, it had slipped through buttery fingers, stumbled and rolled on its edge when the reflections of the figures collided in the dying light of the fire. The fire had been blazing, cocooning the dark room with pressing heat. Now, it need another log and ash that needed cleaning. They joined the list of mislaid fastidious habits.

Inside the glass, a backside arched under clawing fingertips. In the curved reflection, the edges of writhing silhouettes glowed.

“ _God_ ,” a voice begged.

The reply was a rumbling purr, braced knees and toes, and another rut of sculpted hips.

“ _Again_ ,” the demand came. “Fuck, _Hannibal_ …”

Inside the glass, a figure rose, wide hands smoothing up thick thighs, tickling fine hair, lips against delicate ankles, hooked on his shoulders. The toes curled under his breath. He encouraged them a little higher and was rewarded with a bitten sigh. Will’s fingers had to leave his backside and tried to brace himself, but the plush carpet was useless. Will’s back was going to be red raw. The thought of it alighted a cruelty inside Hannibal.

He leant down hard against Will’s knees, ankles sailing far above them now, and ground his girth against the limits of Will’s hole, watching the waver of pleasure and pain dance across the exquisite contours of Will’s virgin body.

Will trembled between fits of ‘too much’ and ‘not enough’, begged for more with tears in his eyes. Licking the whiskey from his lips was signing a shared agreement.

“Give it to me,” he grunted into Hannibal’s mouth.

An agreement excused by whiskey.

“Fuck, Hannibal, _harder_.”

Hannibal gave and gave and gave, sweat falling like rain, glistening over Will’s ignited skin. Hannibal wanted to crawl inside him, to make a home inside the arch of his ribs, feel the beat of his heart against his tongue.

Will bucked, a wild thing, shameless in stolen pleasure, forcing himself down onto the full stretch of Hannibal’s cock. It felt like the last time. There was only so much whiskey could excuse.

“Will.”

Will edged that bright cusp, tripping against the deep dark pull.

“I see you.”

He fell, headfirst into warm darkness, and moaned the

whole

way

down.


End file.
